


Put the Gun Down

by ThatSoChangeableChick



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Brothers, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 02:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4810670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSoChangeableChick/pseuds/ThatSoChangeableChick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason hasn't been acting himself lately, in fact Dick hasn't seen him in a long time. He should visit his little bro - just to make certain everything is alright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put the Gun Down

**Author's Note:**

> so I started this about a week ago and since then I've been sucking up nearly everything to do with Jason and his siblings (Never forget Cass), so really, this is me just finding out where I sit in this new fandom, like literally a learning experience.  
> It came out all fluffy which is really all I want in the world.

“Little Wing,” Dick chided. Jason chewed his jaw, really wishing for his hand guns or at least a cigarette to shoot at the Golden Boy. Instead, he glared at the full moon and brushed a hand through his hair. It’d been a long day and he didn’t want Dick around, everything was a bit too raw and not enough rage.

Maybe Boy Wonder sensed it with those detective skills Jason could never amount. “This isn’t a pit stop, what the fuck you want?” he asked, exhausted with his life. The fucking joke that it was.

He nudged at his aching forehead, “Wait, you liberated any smokes from rotten scum, I’d owe you one.”

Dick took that as an ask to sit, which it fucking wasn’t and Jason shot him a glare for it. “And help you on your way to cancer-dome?  Nah, place is crowded enough as it is.” His knees knocked against Jason until he scooted a little to the side, it was a cold night, smog and urine stanching up from the alley beneath.

Jason scratched at his late night stubble, fingering a scab from a knick of a too close knife. “You didn’t answer my fucking question,” Why would he?

“I’m worried Little Wing,” he huffed and Jason snorted. Dick ignored him, “You haven’t tried to kill us in months,” Dick tries to catch his gaze but yeah, that’s not happening. Jason knows he tried to kill them, he just doesn’t remember when it became a part of him.

He knows Dick isn’t upset about that bit. Jason had been going out of his way to stay out of the Bat Clan’s circles, from day life to night lifestyle, from hero times to criminal affairs.

He just didn’t want to see them. Jason thinks he lost something and it’s left him scrabbling for purchase on a steep descent.

Dick sighs and stares at the pulverized moon. He’s thinking about what to say next, or maybe not, Dick had always been the carefree one, the so called regular kid with an uncommon extra-curricular.  He looks older then he used to, exhausted and verging old.

Jason has that effect on people.

“What are you doing, Jaybird?” Dick’s looking at him again; it’s caring like he’s genuinely worried. Jason clenches his fists, the feeling intensifies because he doesn’t have a fucking clue what he’s doing, not anymore and Dick’s scratching into the fresh wound.

Jason used to think he’d survived to do what Batman couldn’t, hell he’d been prepared to. But he can’t, his hearts not in it. Whatever drove him to there has left, a leaf in the wind and he doesn’t feel anything except sickness that he fucked up somewhere and it’d be good if someone took him out of his misery.

He thinks he needs help but he doesn’t know shit about that.

“Fucking sitting,” Dick just flickered his gaze over him, taking in his brow and chin on the palm of his hand. “Get your fucking eyes checked,” Jason muttered.

Dick exhales, finally whatever he came for reaching its peak and he scratches at his scalp to sort his hair. Asshole, “Listen, I’m not going to suggest you come back to the manor,” Jason snorts at the idea. He doesn’t really get where Boy Wonder is going with this, “But I know something has changed. We all do, even Bruce is getting antsy-“

“Spit it out, Grayson.”

Jason didn’t want to fucking hear this. He keeps staring at his handguns, and in some small place he knew he needed help but it was an observation, not a will or drive. Jason didn’t have one of those anymore. He wants to hold them.

“Come live with me,” Dick rushed out.

Jason stared at the lunatic and Dick shrugged his shoulders with a tilted grin, life sparkling in his fucking baby blues. He just had it all didn’t he. Jason narrowed his eyes and sniffed, “Whatever you’re on I don’t want nothing to do with it.” He blinked away any pale strewn form that flickered to life.

Dick nudged him with his shoulder lightly, like too hard might fucking break him. Jason quirked a lip, he might just. “I’m not on anything; I really think you should move in with me. A bit of downtime,” he marketed, dipping his head to catch the faint smile.

Taking that as incentive Dick shimmied his shoulders, “In fact my place will mostly be yours. I work days and patrol most nights, just see it as a vacation at your big bro’s expense.”

His chest stabbed cold. It didn’t take the faint smirk off his face though and Dick nudged him again, feeling bold. “Come on, I miss you Little Wing,” Dick might just be going in for a one armed embrace and Jason stood the fuck up because he’d thought he’d forgotten to smile sincerely and his chest was hollow.

“Stop calling me that,” he muttered, crawling back into his rundown apartment.

He had to have some cigarettes in one of the drawers, he had five to look through and he fucking would until Dick left. Boy Wonder straddled the window, tapping the splintered wood in thought as he stared at Jason. “The invites still open Jay, anytime for as long as you want, okay?”

Dick crouched onto the fire escape, unmovable until Jason nodded, which he did with a little growl. Dick threw his palms up, “I’m going Jaybird, I’m going, don’t be a stranger,” he chirped, disappearing over the side of the fire escape. A faint thump as he landed on the garbage outside, the sounds of him in the alleyway swallowed by oncoming sirens and shouts.

Jason took his fingers out of the mice drawer, slamming it shut to scrabble at his temples. He hated this and he didn’t fucking know what this was. He wasn’t going to run to Golden Boy, he was going to fix this.

He sucked in a deep breath to calm whatever messed about in his chest, spying his gun by the sink where he’d set it after getting water after his latest fight. He knew that handgun better then he knew himself, all the knicks and crannies, the perfect hold and the weight. He knew it all and still, Jason couldn’t leave it alone.

It was after he’d picked it up and began flinging it above him while he lay on the couch with the safety off that he realized that Dick might have been that help he needed. It was a sour thought and Jason pointedly tossed his gun on the splintered floorboards.

A gun fired in his apartment building a few seconds later, shouting set in and Jason threw an arm over his eyes. He’d have to move again. Didn’t want the cops too interested in the area surrounding his apartment.

Right, maybe Dick’s place wasn’t too bad of an idea.

The shouting had stopped, footsteps hammering all over his floor as sirens got closer. Jason exhaled, rocking onto his feet as he scooped up his worn out back pack, filling it up with his essentials and leaving his arsenal under the floorboard for a rainy day later. It’s not like he could take that to Dick’s place anyway.

He didn’t leave his handguns though, his dagger still hanging on his belt as well as his clips, and the knives in his boot. Jason has skidded down the fire escape and wandered down the streets, hood up to hide his features like most of the neighborhood’s populace and got himself a burger at one of the diner’s still open.

Jason chewed it out on a rooftop beside a haughty gargoyle, he patted it. “Quite a view you got here,” he licked ketchup off his thumb, kicking his feet over the ledge and never keeping his gaze on one sparkling light.

A blast of heat fell over his shoulders and he tilted his head back to spot the wisps of flaming red hair and deep orange skin. “Everyone’s coming out of the woodwork,” he muttered as Starfire crouched over her knees to beam at him.

“Jason, how have you been?”

He smirked out a greeting, “I’m doing good. How you holding, Kori?” Starfire shrugged quickly, swinging her legs over the edge to kick them in a similar manner as Jason’s.

Her smile softened, “I’m good, Jason.” She tilted her head and crimson locks toppled over her shoulder, “Why do you have a bag? Are you going someplace?” she was excited at the prospect.

There were only a few things Starfire would be doing in this ominous neck of the woods. Gotham wasn’t really Kori’s hotspot or superhero central, with Bats policing every Meta coming in spitting distance, fucking control freak. Jason leaned back on his palms with a loud sigh, “Dick asked you to check on me, didn’t he?”

Starfire tilted a smile left, shrugging a bit to concede. “We had trouble in Jump City that prolonged my stay but it’s no hardship to see you, Jason.” Dick had gotten Bats control freak trait, he’d hate that. Jason would have to tell him.

He scratched the lock of white from his sight, setting his left over fries between them for her to take her pick. “Anything fun?” he diverted. Jason stuffed fries in his gob to hide his smirk at her nonplused stare.

“A large robot,” she mentioned indulgingly, picking out the floppy fries to munch on. “I’ve always loved Earth’s lights from above,” she noted, her boots making appearances in the scenery. “We don’t have such lights on my planet, but they remind me of the stars that used to be visible from my room, and I used to imagine how very far away they were and of all the stories I had yet heard from them.”

“You have a moral here, don’t you?” Jason indulged.

Kori tilted her head in a large smile, “I have thought of one, yes.” Jason huffed and Kori sobered, folding her ankle under her knee. “I know that not everything is good Jason, I did not need the Night Wing to tell me that. You are my friend, and I will not have you forget that for those few stars that told unfortunate tales.”

She gripped his palm, her bright lime orbs glazed in tears, and Jason chest squeezed, the hollowness somehow aching in the vacuum. “Warn a guy, Kori,” he rasped out.

Starfire giggled, smile tight, which Jason softened with his thumb rubbing circles into her knuckles. “So, why do you have your bag?” she asked.

It didn’t really lighten up the mood, “Dick’s got a guilty conscious,” he said wryly, “Wants me to move in with him.” He wasn’t a fucking charity case, which wasn’t clear to any of the Bat Clan.

“Why should he be guilty?” Starfire asked.

Jason growled out, “You know what happened.”

“I do,” she nodded seriously, “You have told me it yourself. What I do not understand is why he should be guilty. It is not he who killed you, or…didn’t come, Jason.” Kori added quietly, “If he feels guilt it would only be because he wished he had done more when he had no option to.”

“You saying it’s unfounded?” Jason gritted.

Starfire stared at her lap, “You had both been dealt certain cards, Jason.” His words halted in his throat, “You are both different, than you were. I believe now he wishes to pick his own cards.”

Jason unhinged his jaw, “You’re picking up the phrases there,” he grunted.

She grinned, hands still squirming in her lap, “I have been watching much of the television shows.” Jason massaged his aching forehead, the bite in his chest dimming down to a placated rabid mongrel.

“Anything good?”

Starfire revealed her pearly teeth, clapped her hands excitedly and began a long appraisal of media, which he got fairly into once Star Trek cropped in. It ended after several recommendations, a couple of laughs paired with reenactments and Kori’s question: “Would you like to marathon the Trekking Series with me at Night Wing’s place?”

Jason’s grin dimmed, his hand still working through his scratchy hair. “That sounds great actually, think I should show up there first though.”

Starfire nodded, “Right, I will give you space to settle into your new bachelor pad.”

“Let’s fucking hope not.” Starfire laughed.

“Would you like me to accompany you?” she asked, her smile still bright enough to block out Gotham’s dreary backdrop.

Jason squeezed her lean hand, “Rain check.”

Truth be, he didn’t fester at Dick place until a three day trial of his tracks. He spied Officer Grayson patrolling the darkened streets, nodding his head and smirking at Dick’s increasingly clear charade for him to head to his apartment while his partner glowered exasperatedly at Dick’s mannerisms.

Jason ate bad diner food, drank a whole lot, beat up a few assholes, smoked a lot of cigarettes and kept his vigilante business to the spontaneous. After a failed attempt at a stab and grab, Jason kicked the perpetuators’ ass all the way to Dick’s doorway.

He rang the doorbell, “Did his majesty decide to bestow me with his presence-“

The door swung open and Dick’s bright blue orbs blinked twice, until they narrowed, lips tussled and Jason chuckled, “I bought gifts.” The duo of goons groaned in sync as Jason nudges their greasy heads together, “No returns.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, “Jay.” Jason should have showed up earlier, this was great.

Jason clapped his shoulder, “Aren’t you going to let your favorite brother in?”

“You’re welcome, they’re not,” Jason brushed past him, flopping onto the hard couch without removing his slime covered boots. “I just got back home, Jay,” he whined.

Jason pulled out a cigarette and waved it, “Crime doesn’t sleep,” he quoted.

He lit his smoke, taking a deep drag as Dick yanked the goons inside by zip ties Jason always kept on him, not a traitorous second later Dick stole his cigarette and put it out. “This is lung cancer benefactor free apartment,” he told with authority.

Jason zoomed onto his feet, “Then this is a Jason free apartment.”

Dick becomes an obstacle, hands on his shoulders and long suffering exasperation coloring his words. “Fine, it’s not a lung cancer benefactor free fire escape,” he placated.

“I don’t know…”

Dick threw his head back, brows lowered though no less ecstatic at his presence, catching Jason’s unwavering gaze. “You’re going to make me beg aren’t you?”

Jason smirked and indulged, “My game plan is to make this as difficult as possible.”

Dick grumbled, idiotically grinning and Jason was reminded why Boy Wonder was the favorite. “I know you only want me for my shower, go on,” he nudged, flipping out his phone and strumming through the contacts.

“Figure that out by yourself, Detective,” Jason stood though, clomping into Dick’s bathroom to wash off Gotham’s grime. He had some fancy soap, and about five hair creams, and Jason snorted when he proceeded to finish Dick’s hot water.

He stole a towel, working it into his hair while he changed into his last clean clothes, dunking the rest in the sink for a quick wash and hanging it over the shower stall. Jason scratched at the scar cracking through his cheek, finding the murmured voices to have died down and Dick leaning against the kitchen island, staring at the phone in his hand.

“I take it dearest Pops knows I’m here,” he asked, moving past Dick for his fridge of Alfred’s leftovers. Apparently Al found out how Dick’s main nutrients came from the oily Chinese takeout, and it was great. “Is that Al’s curry?” he uncapped the lid to inhale a deep whiff. It was.

Dick huffed and twisted to apprise Jason. He’d finally laid hands on the spoons, digging into the thick container with a satisfied groan at the first bite, “This – this is fucking good.” Old Wonder Boy didn’t look too pleased, which stopped Jason in his important endeavor – thinking; poisoned, oh shit it’s poisoned.

He licked the cold sauce at the crook of his mouth, because, well, it was already too late and for a fair cost. “Have I popped a zit?” Jason smirked.

Head bowed and heaving in a dry breath, Dick rounded the island and Jason got the atrociously clear picture of what would happen. He backed up, shaking his spoon.

“Yes, it’s happening Jaybird, I need to hug my little bro,” Dick enlightened. He didn’t sound apologetic, his arms palms making come hither gestures and a contrite expression which might have been reluctant but really wasn’t.

His arms wrapped over Jason’s shoulders, “Nah uh,” he grunted over his mouthful.

“Uh huh,” Dick nodded into Jason’s neck, squeezing tighter at the shudder that ran over Jason’s spine. He knew the drill; Dick didn’t unclasp until held back, the fucking Koala.

Jason growlingly exhaled, “Make it quick.” He set the container on the counter and hugged the tense idiot.

Instantly, his weight softened from an immovable shield into a very cuddly bear under the fists lining his spine, Dick’s breath fanning over his ear. “You can stay as long as you want, and I didn’t tell B, that’s up to you.”

Yeah, Jason wouldn’t do that. It seemed to be alright though, and Dick smelled like his goddamn fancy soap. “Dick,” A fairly disappointed female voice spoke up, “I haven’t seen my daughter since six am if you’d mind…”

Dick squeezed Jason again, getting all his warmth all over him, just as Jason thumped him on the back for the release.

He coughed around a tight throat, “I’ve got it,” he ruffled his hair, and went to his mouse haired slightly pig nosed partner at the door. Dick signed the witness statement. He was taking the credit for the capture of the goons and keeping Jason’s name off record. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad here.

Jason jumped onto the island, returning to his meal to fill up his stomach. Back wash burgers just didn’t cut it next to Alfred’s anything.

“Sorry Amy,” Dick said, handing it back with a short grin. The clipboard tucked under her arm she evaluated the both of them. It was actually pretty great, Amy has seen shit and she expected Dick to start spouting it. Dick quickly jumped in, “Amy meet Jay, Jay meet Amy. He’s my brother.”

Jason pulled a face at the term.

Amy massaged her forehead, regretting asking before she did. “He’s the one who took care of those two,” she jabbed her pen out the door.

Jason smirked, stuffing another spoonful inside to watch the show. Dick smiled, grim and proud, “Nope, all me, says there in my witness statement.”

“Dick,” Amy growled out, more exhausted than angered. She spied Dick’s features, and it must have been convincing because she said, “I won’t have any more of your lot round here.”

Jason paused with the spoon to his lips, and bared his teeth in a feral grin. “No worries, I’m not his lot.” He jumped off the counter, ready to take his food into Dick’s bedroom when Dick stuck a hand behind his back, flashing a sign ‘hold position’.

Jason pulled a sour face but stayed, it’s not like he wouldn’t be listening in anyway, and apparently age old habits were hard to break. “He isn’t,” Dick assured, he jabbed a thumb at Jason. “He’ll be staying for a while to eat my food and use up my hot water,” he admitted.

“He’s good for some things,” Jason agreed.

He didn’t sound too beat up about it, “I’m drowning in affection.”

“Don’t expect CPR.” He snickered over a spoonful of curry.

“Boys,” Amy chided, weariness burrowing her brows like she couldn’t believe she had to deal with them. Wow, this was a setback to Jason’s thirteen year old self and the time he’d begun hoarding food in his back pack.  

Amy credited, “I don’t know who you are and I won’t be pointing any fingers, okay? Just try and stay out of the police scanner.”

Jason snorted over his final bite, “You got it Officer, sir.”

Dick flashed Officer Amy a bedazzling grin which only enhanced the natural sarcasm in Jason’s words. He rummaged about the fridge, dipping a finger into a half congealed mass of chocolate pudding to suck it clean. His taste buds popped; rich but not overly so, sweet yet dark, “Fucking hell that was worth getting my head bashed in.”

He grabbed the bowl and began a very localized dig. Dick’s cringe quickly hid under a tight grin, “Keep your talons off my brain – and from my pudding, I was saving that!”

“I understand why, this is fucking tasty,” Jason sucked his spoon clean. Dick began a whine and Jason scooped up more pudding, “Complaints are noted, but consider this, I don’t care.”

Dick saw that as a challenge, for what? Jason didn’t trust a correct answer. He might want to sleep with one eye open. Amy scrunched up her nose, “You’re a zombie?” Jason snorted because he didn’t believe it either.

“Without the hard on for brain, yeah,” he grumbled.

“He’d need to know what a brain is for that,” Dick muttered.

“You talking to mice again, Dickie Bird…?”

“Right,” Amy interrupted, really not amused. Jason was fucking hilarious though, hands down, no doubt. “Next time, let a guy in a leotard deliver him to the prescient,” that was an order.

She looked troubled, eyeing Jason up and down as if to find the crawled out his grave vibe. “You got it, Amy,” Dick promised. He glanced between them and said with a grin, “Don’t let Jaybird get to you, he’s likes to play up his dark past to hide the fact he’s a big softie.”

Wow, rude. “The only way you’re getting a full night’s sleep tonight is if you shoot me.” Dick just laughed as Jason headed to his bedroom to sabotage Dick’s mattress, and let the cops have their business talk. He was nice like that.

He left the door open a smidge, listening in without paying much attention. Dick didn’t deserve his mattress and Jason quickly stretched out over it all. He sighed, blinking away tears as he noticed the slim corkboard overhead.

Well, well what does the big bro have here? Jason might just trade the sabotage of the mattress for something he was less likely to steal. He spent a couple of seconds just staring at the board, taking note how all the pictures were well-loved, yellowing around the edges from fingers.

Jason touched a picture of him and Dick in Aspen, the white mountains standing sentry behind them while they grinned at the camera. It’d been his first time out of Gotham, he didn’t know what brought it on and didn’t fucking care.

It’d been fucking fun for those couple weeks, just regular brotherly stuff, he’d felt spoilt by the end of it.

“I’m going to forget that this is my room and ask if it’s safe to come in,” Dick rapped on the door. Jason huffed, relaxing back as Dick poked his head in, spotting him and flickered up at the cork board of photographs. “I have a feeling you didn’t sabotage anything,” he said.

Jason shrugged, “Sure,” he didn’t sound believable.

Dick broadcasted mischief, bouncing the bed and leaning way into Jason’s personal space to scan the board with a melancholy sigh that Jason didn’t believe. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“It’s said ‘obsessive’,” Jason clarified.

Dick’s fingers were heading to ruffle his hair and Jason poisonously glowered until his survival instincts kicked in. Instead he twisted his fingers to gesture at the board, “I’ve got more; loads more.” He twisted back, nearly crawling under his bed and strained to say, “Birds have hoarding tendencies.”

Dick would have to forgive him for not alerting the media. He snapped back to shape, settling a slim carton shoe box before Jason like a prophesized gift. Jason’s first instinct was that it would explode. Jason’s second was that Dick would always find a way to perform.

Jason flipped the lid, confused with the packets of photographs crammed inside the small space. He picked a picture up, coming to another distinct realization. “You’re a fucking stalker, you know that, right?”

Dick flashed a crooked grin, “Never got a complaint about it before.” That’s because Jason would have burned the whole lot if he’d known. “Look, they’re all here,” Dick prattled through the different pictures and Jason got the distinct idea that he was witnessing a trait Dick had kept hidden.

You see, Jason understood to an extent, finding out you’d been replaced by a loud mouthed street rat probably hadn’t endeared Dick to him. And Jason, being an asshole, had returned the vague aggression with insults. Not that Bruce did anything to stop it, the fucking idiot.

Dick flashed a snapshot, “You’ve got to remember that. Alfred said he was still finding mash potatoes two weeks later.” Yeah, a botched New Year’s meal, Al painted off to one side with mash potatoes blown over his receding hairline, and twelve year old Jason grimacing severely beside an open blender.

Bruce had been stuck in some high society gala, which Jason managed to squirm out of and Dick had run late, a slash over his elbow and a camera in hand to witness Jason’s attempt of pureeing mash potatoes.

Jason snorted, digging through the box for another and whistling, “Me in my element.” He had to be about fourteen, nose a crooked mess of dried and gushing blood over his teeth and chin, grinning at something Bruce had muttered off camera.

That had been fun. Dick snickered.

“If those fingers are going to ruffle my hair, I’m going to punch you in the trachea.”

Dick deflated, only slightly, fanning through the pictures with a secret smile, it wasn’t as bright as his usual, but no less sincere. Dick had kept pictures of him, looked out for him by the looks of it. He hadn’t even fucking known.

“I didn’t know,” Jason whispered.

Dick shrugged in a defense mechanism for when he didn’t want to betray his emotions. “You weren’t supposed to, Little Wing,” he thumped Jason’s knee. His grin brightened, jaded at the edges though no less sincere.

Jason guessed Dick couldn’t keep his trap shut. “You planning on staying a while – look don’t pull that face – I want to know if to get out the futon or leave you on the couch.”

Well, that fun time didn’t last long, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“And looking good doing it,” Jason eyed Dick. He was getting the full out Grayson charm, no doubt buttering him up for cooker. “But that doesn’t tell me what to expect here.”

Jason sucked a lemon, “You want to do the ‘where we at’ talk now?” he asked incredulously.  He’d expected the balancing act over the issue where too much jostling would toss them to the alligators below. Dick was familiar enough with that.

It was Bruce’s shtick. Granted it always blew up but it was a hell lot more familiar then this sudden airing off the dirty sheets. Predictable that the behavior Dick wanted to fuck over was the one Jason had already put into practice long before he’d met Batman.

Dick slapped his knee and Jason eyed him, “Yeah, I do. We always dance around subjects, we might as well – for once, at least – try a different way because the usual always messes up the nest.”

“Puns, really?” Jason said and Dick groaned. He gripped the shoe box, “Fine,” he gritted out. “I haven’t got no fucking plan, I’m just – I want to put my guns away,” he grunted with a frown.

He didn’t want to fucking stare at them. Jason needed to find something, which wouldn’t hollow out. He had enough rage, maybe if he looked in he’d find the ignition, and finally twist it for what he wanted.

Not to be some twisted version of Batman’s other partner.

Dick chewed his cheek slightly, fighting to keep pride off his grin, “Sounds like a plan.” His hand warmed Jason’s shoulder, a shudder running through his back as if grounded by the words. “I’ll always be here if you want me Jaybird, not just if you need.”

Jason huffed, arms trapped over his chest to hide his stupid reaction, “Whatever Dickhead.”

Dick laughed, loud and pearly, fucking baby blues scrunched up in joy and Jason spared him a crooked grin, because he’d put that on big brother’s face, and yeah, so what if he was a little proud.


End file.
